


Becoming Free

by Daytonagirl8991



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Castiel, Female Castiel/Male Dean Winchester, Gen, Hurt Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daytonagirl8991/pseuds/Daytonagirl8991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Raised as a captive of Hell, then rescued by hunters: Castielle must find her way to become free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I severely twisted the cannon plotline for my story. Mainly because Castiel is a female.
> 
> sections in Italics are flashbacks

_“What are we doing, Gabriel?” Castielle asks as they walk through a crowd of people. To the humans surrounding them, the pair looks possibly like a father and daughter, as the young fledgling is using the form of a seven year old child. Her tiny hand held securely in her companion’s. The busy street practically pulsated with energy as people made preparations for the Christmas holiday. They had visited a church earlier. The younger angel had been surprised to see a depiction of herself playing her harp; although the angel depicted was a blonde, Castielle had recognized her harp immediately. While Gabriel had complained about the inaccurate depiction of the Christ’s birth; but the older angel had seemed determined to teach his young charge about the human holiday, nonetheless._

_“Well Cassie, if you’re going to be a messenger like me one day: you need to learn how to walk among people. Father told us to love them and protect them. How are we to do that if we don’t know them? ”_

_“Michael will be mad that we left.” Castielle deadpanned._

_“Don’t worry about Mikey. He needs to learn to lighten up; just like you, Coco-bean.” Gabriel said, using his special nickname for his young charge._

_“Can we stay down here?” Castielle’s question caught Gabriel off-guard for a moment._

_“Why would we do that?” Gabriel asks, although he already suspects the answer._

_“The others call me ‘Crow-wings.’” Castielle answers quietly. And Gabriel wasn’t far from the target of knowing what the little Angel was going to say._

_Castielle’s wings had marked her as different among the others. The size of them alone was enough to be different. Compared to the others, whose wings were proportionate to their size, Castielle’s wing span and strength is impressive to say the least. It was like a puppy whose paws are too big for their body. And the color is one that had never been seen before: pure black. But the true significance of the wings is lost on the other angels; Castielle’s wings are meant for a purpose. They will not fail her in the task that lay ahead of her: one day breaching the depths of the pit of Hell to save the righteous man. It is painful for Gabriel to know that his young charge’s destiny is to enter the pit, even if she is strong enough to succeed. His job now is to prepare her for when the day comes._

_Besides the wings, Castielle’s creation, the first in over a Millennia, had marked when God had taken a step back, allowing the reigns of Heaven to be passed to Michael. Gabriel is aware that those facts had isolated the young Angel from the other Angels. Snapping his fingers, Gabriel conceals them from the crowd. He bent down so that he was at eye level with Castielle._

_“Castielle, your wings are very special. Dad made them especially for you. One day, you will have to rely on their strength; and their coloring to protect you.”_

_“When I go into Hell?” Castielle questions, and Gabriel is surprised that the young Angel knows about that; as he had always tried to protect her from the knowledge of her mission._

_“Where did you learn about that?”_

_“From Zachariah, and Uriel, and Raphael. Is it true Gabriel? Will I have to go into Hell one day?” Castielle asked, staring at Gabriel with eyes so blue that Gabriel swears that Castielle’s grace is flaring up._

_“Yeah, Coco-bean. It’s true.” Gabriel said reaching out to stroke one of the braids that hang next to Castielle’s ears. “It’s why your wings are so special. None of the other angels will be able to get into the depths of hell like you will.”_

_“Not even you or Michael? I’ll have to go alone?” And with that question, Castielle’s grace does begin to flare._

_“Calm down, Cassie. You won’t be a fledgling anymore when you do it. And our wings weren’t made for entering hell, yours are. The reason that they are black is because they will shield you from the evils of hell. You will have to complete this mission on your own. You’re not ready for it yet; but you will be ready when the time comes.”_

_Gabriel snaps his fingers and two candy canes appeared in his free hand; he handed one over to Castielle as he stands to his full height and took Castielle’s hand again. “One of the best things humans have ever made: Candy.” Gabriel explained to Castielle’s questioning look; before he smirked and put his candy cane into his mouth and began to suck on it; clearly ready to change the subject. Castielle can see Gabriel watching her out of the corner of his eye._

_Castielle stares back at him, before contemplating the bright candy cane in her hand. She is curious about the candy; wondering what it tastes like. Gabriel had snuck her sweets before; although it is forbidden by Zachariah, but never any like this. Castielle is about to put the candy in her mouth like Gabriel, when the image fades away._

Castielle groans, her eyes fluttering open, a small droplet of sweat trickling from her temple to her cheek; coming to rest on the straps to the gag held securely between her teeth. She isn’t sure what brought her out of her precious rest, her memories of her time under Gabriel’s care were her only source of comfort in this nightmare of a place.

She rolls her shoulders as best she could, and hears her chains jingle over her head. The cuffs bite into her bruised and bloodied wrists from where she had struggled too much, causing several crimson tracks to run down her arms. The heavy metal collar secured around her throat has rubbed her neck raw from her attempt to rest.

The cuffs and collar are magic and absorbs most of her Grace; keeping her from healing herself, though keeping her alive through the torture. But even with her full power it wouldn't enough to break free from them. The bonds are designed to capture the strongest of archangels. Even Michael wouldn’t be able to break free of these bonds. The thought of her eldest brother cause a new surge of learned emotions to come over her. Every moment Castielle spends in the cuffs, she can feel her grace diminishing with every heavy breath. Soon there might not be anything left, leaving her vulnerable and human.

Castielle tries to maneuver her body into a position so she could try to rest; as her vessel’s body is badly wounded and weak from the pain. Her back still feels like it is on fire from where her wings had been tortured. She doesn’t have the strength or the space to extend her wings for a visual examination, but she can feel the damage to them. Most of her feathers had been ripped from the wings, and those that are left are mangled. And she is fairly certain one wing is broken, as any attempt to move it is meet with resistance and pain.

Castielle halts her movements; however, when she can hear voices above her. Castielle had lost track of how long it had been since she had heard any sign of life, or even how long she had even been here. Focusing every ounce of her being, she tries to determine who it is. Castielle had long since given up on the notion of a rescue. Gabriel is dead, or at least that was what Zachariah had said, and Gabriel was the only one bold enough to go against heaven. And her torturers liked to project the image of Human authority when tormenting her.

Suddenly she hears the door to her prison open, and sees light coming down the stairs. Castielle braces herself for whatever is about to happen.


	2. chapter 2

“Find anything?” Dean asks his brother as they sit at a diner booth having lunch. Sam is currently on his laptop searching for a case.

“Just one. Possible haunting in Versailes Indiana. Strange things have apparently been happening around this place for years. Lights flickering, strange noises, electrical anomalies.”

“Ok, I’m not changing the channel. You thinking a ghost?”

“I was. Except for two facts. One these events are affecting the entire town. And two: a few days ago, every tree within 100 yards of the town suddenly fell over from the roots. And a house on the outskirts of town seems to be the epicenter; as all the trees fell in direction away from this house.” Sam says as he turns the laptop around to show Dean the photo shows the trees down pointing out from the house. “I don’t know of any ghost that has that type of fire power. There’s no body count yet, so whatever this thing is: I think it’s just getting warmed up.”

“Worth checking it out.”

When the brothers arrived in Versailes, it is too late to do much more than get a motel room and start planning on where to start investigating in the morning. After their customary four hours sleep the two brothers hit the local library to begin searching the town newspapers for any background information on the case.

Strange incidents had been happening around this area since 1987; with occurrences slowly increasing over the years. Locals had reported things such as televisions suddenly losing reception, electricity surges, and piercing sounds that would sometimes shatter any glass object in range.

The brothers decide to check the house out that evening, when most of the activity was known to occur. They go through the house systematically, and find nothing out of the ordinary at first. Then, Sam finds a door that is boarded shut. Looking around Dean finds a pry bar not far from the door. Dean pry’s the door open to reveal stairs leading down to a basement.

Together, the brothers descend the stairs. Once the brothers get to the bottom of the stairs, Dean says: “You go that way, Sam. I’ll check the other end.”

As Dean searches his end of the basement his flashlight catches something that nearly makes his heart stop.

Hanging from chains suspended from the ceiling is a girl, her toes barely able to touch the ground. Long, dark hair covers most of her face, so Dean can’t see what her face looks like. She doesn’t have any clothing on, and her body is pale from the cold air of the basement.

“Sonovabitch!” Dean swore as he realized what he was seeing was real. He quickly moves over to the girl; all the while wondering if he is walking into a trap. Dean moves some of the blood and sweat soaked hair out of her face and winces in sympathy at the sight of the nasty looking bruises to the girl's face. In all, it looked like someone had used this girl as a punching bag.

Under the bruises, the girl’s face is a delicate pale that almost makes her look like she looks a porcelain doll. She’s really a young woman, Dean thinks as she looks to be just a few years younger than himself; possibly Sam’s age. Maybe that is the reason why Dean’s protective nature flares up and he wants nothing more than to protect this girl.

Reaching out, Dean checks her neck for a pulse. Finding a pulse, Dean breathes a sigh of relief. As Dean touches her neck, the girl seems to regain some consciousness, as she shifts and opens her eyes. Dean is struck at how blue her eyes are; he had never seen such blue eyes before. They are like gleaming sapphires, alight by fear and unshed tears. Her breathing comes as painful gasps around the gag in her mouth. She also tries to get away, but all that does is cause her reopen some of the wounds on her wrists. Dean notices the fresh blood running down her arms and knows that he need to calm the girl down so she doesn’t injure them or herself more; as she is fighting like a trapped animal.

“Hey. You’re gonna be ok. You just need to calm down or you’re gonna hurt yourself.” The girl seems to calm down as she quits struggling to get free. However, her eyes still contain barely controlled panic; not that Dean can blame the poor girl for it. Their eyes met and in that moment, Dean feels like lightning has struck him as the girl stares into his eyes as if trying to read his soul. After a few seconds, the girl calms down; and while she continues to watch Dean closely, it isn’t as intense of a stare as it was before.

Dean knows he is going to need Sam’s help in getting the girl free and out of the basement. Turning his head in the direction Sam had gone, Dean calls out his brother’s name. Soon Dean can hear Sam running towards him. The girl seems to hear it too, and the question is clear in her eyes. “My brother is going to help get you outta here.”

“Oh shit.” Sam says as he sees the girl.

“We gotta get her outta here, Sam.” Dean says, barely turning towards Sam; before turning his attention back to the girl.

Without a second thought, Dean reaches up and unbuckles the straps to the gag. He eases the straps down, the girl’s jaw makes a painful sounding pop as she opens her mouth wider to let Dean remove the ball wedged behind her teeth. When the gag is removed, a sting of pleas leave the girl’s mouth in a language that neither brother has ever heard before.

“It’s ok. We’re gonna get you outta here.” Dean said. “Do you understand?” He worries that the girl might not understand English.

“I-I understand.” Came the small, uncertain reply.

“Awesome.” Turning to Sam, Dean says: “Sam, help me get her down.”

Dean puts his gun in the back of his jeans and as gently as he could, Dean wraps his arms around the girl’s waist and lifts her up, taking the weight off her wrists and the collar around her neck; allowing Sam to pick the locks of the restraints. After a few moments, Dean hears the soft clicks of the locks as Sam releases the girl from her bindings: first the collar, then the manacles. Dean lets the girl down and helps her get her footing before moving back slightly to give the girl a chance to walk on her own. The girl takes a very shaky step before her legs give out and she stumbles and falls. She quickly gets herself in a crouched position. The girl curls in on herself, with her arms crossed over her chest; as if in effort to cover the fact that she didn’t have any clothing on. Dean removes his flannel shirt and wraps it around the girl’s shoulders.

“Put your arms around my neck.” Dean says as adjusts his shirt so that it will cover her. The girl looks at Dean as if she didn’t immediately understand what he told her; But then the feeling passes and she tentatively does as Dean instructed as he slides one arm under her knees and the other cradling her back as he lifts her up to carry her bridal style. The girl is almost skin and bones making her very easy for Dean to carry.

“Let’s get out of here, before whatever did this to her comes back.” Sam says as he watches Dean picks the girl up in his arms.

“Lead the way.” Dean says as he allows Sam to cover him as they leave the basement and make their way back to the impala.

When they reach the car, Dean tells Sam to open the back door so he can put the girl in the back seat. The girl huddles deeper into Dean's shirt, looking impossibly small and lost. Dean gets the spare blanket out of the trunk and gives it to the girl. She just stares at the blanket like she doesn't know what to do with it. Dean takes the blanket and tucks it around the girl's legs.

As Dean shuts the back door, he locks eyes with Sam across the car.

"Get in the car, Sam."

“Where we headed?” Sam asks as they get into the impala.

“Back to the motel. She’s too bad to take to the hospital without a billion questions being asked.”

“But she could have some serious injuries.” Sam argues.

“Look, we go back to the motel; let her get cleaned up and we’ll see if there’s any injuries we need to take care of. You heard how she talks when we removed the gag; I don’t think putting her in the hospital is going to help her.”

“We don’t even know her name! How are we gonna help her?”

"Castielle.” Come a quiet response from the back seat. Both brothers turned to see sitting up in the back seat; her blue eyes bright and alert.

“Did you say something?” Sam asks. It had been so quiet, that at first they wasn’t sure they heard anything.

“I said my name is Castielle." Her voice small and uncertain.


	3. chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. It just didn't sit right with me at first.

When the brothers returned to their motel room, Dean helped Castielle from the car to the room. Fortunately no one noticed them; or Dean was sure they would be up to their necks in police if anyone thought too hard on the sight of two men helping a young woman, who was obviously underweight and clothed in only a man’s shirt and a blanket into a motel room.

Once in the room, Dean begins digging through his duffle bag and soon finds Castielle a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Castielle seems rooted in place, eyes scanning the room as if to check for dangers. Not that Dean can blame her.

“Here. You can wear these tonight. They’ll probably be too big, but it’s better than nothing. You can get cleaned up and dressed in the bathroom.” Dean said as he turned Castielle towards the bathroom. She allows herself to be led with little resistance. She jumps slightly when Dean closes the door behind her; it takes a moment for her to not pull the door open again. After reassuring herself that she could pull the door off the hinges if she had to, Castielle turns to the sink and notices the mirror above it.

It is a testament of how much she had fallen by how much she had aged. She had barely been more than a fledgling, about the equivalent to the human age of seven or eight; when she had been captured. Even though she had grown into a full Angel, her vessel shouldn’t have aged.   At least, Castielle doesn’t think it should have. It was a rare occurrence for a fledgling to leave heaven, much less take a vessel and be on earth for extended periods of time. So maybe the aging process of a fledgling’s vessel isn’t stopped; allowing them to grow with the Angel’s grace.

Analyzing her grace, Castielle finds that it is getting stronger as she spends more time away from the angel bonds; but it is still much weaker than it is supposed to be. But she can feel it slowly beginning to repair the damage to her vessel. Castielle tries reaching out to the soul inside the vessel with her; but gets no response. It isn’t surprising to her, as Jennifer Novack has been quiet for a long time. So long that Castielle is certain that the young girl’s soul has made its trip to heaven. Even though Jennifer is at peace; it is still unfortunate that the young girl has lost her life.

Since Castielle is away from the Grace-binding cuffs, she decides to try healing her injuries. Closing her eyes, Castielle concentrated on healing her injuries like Gabriel taught her. Normally it is automatic for an Angel to heal, but she has had her Grace bound for a long time. She can feel the wounds closing, flesh being mended into place. Some of the bruises remain, but they have faded considerably. Castielle experimentally extends her wings. Although the small bathroom isn’t big enough to spread them fully, Castielle is satisfied with the lack of pain from them.

Her body is now clean; so she examines the clothes that she was given. As an Angel, she isn’t use to human garments; but based on the clothing that her vessel had been wearing when she had been captured she was able to figure out how to put them on. With only minor difficulty, Castielle manages to put the clothes on. The clothing is much too big on her small frame; but Castielle supposes that they will suffice.

Deeming herself presentable, Castielle opens the door to leave the bathroom. She steps quietly into the main room; but Dean and Sam noticed her anyways. When Castielle emerged from the bathroom, the thing that both brothers noticed is that most of her injuries seemed to have healed in the short amount of time she was in the bathroom. It was that fact that made the brothers think that maybe Castielle isn’t human.

“Have a seat.” Dean says as he gestures towards the couch in the room. He gets up and moves toward the kitchen in the room and begins to make a cup of coffee for Castielle, as she still looks like she could use a warm drink.

Castielle sits on the couch, head bowed, stiller than a statue. She is staring down at her hands in her lap; as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

Coming out of her thoughts, Castielle turns her attention to the men who rescued her. Castielle silently observes them. She quickly concluded that they are Hunters. Gabriel had told her about hunters; how they are fight demons, much like the Angels. But Castielle didn’t know how they would respond if she revealed what she truly is. So until she can be sure, she decides to keep silent about what she is; at least until her powers come back to full strength.

The shorter of the two interests her. There is something about his soul that calls to her; she can feel it in the depths of her grace. She has never experienced that before; not that she had been around humans all that much. But from her limited experience with humans, Castielle is sure that there is something special about this one’s soul. It is so bright; much brighter than normal. And although Castielle could see his sins, many of them would be judged to be of necessity.

The taller one’s soul is also brighter than a normal human’s soul; but there is a darkness to it. What that darkness is, Castielle is unsure of. He’ll be the one to watch out for, he could be deemed a threat. Castielle is pulled from her thoughts when a mug of warm liquid enters her line of sight. Looking up, Castielle sees that it is the shorter man that is offering her the cup.

“I figured you would want something to drink; so I made you some coffee.” Dean says as he hands Castielle the cup. When he touches Castielle, Dean makes sure that his silver ring made contact with her skin; watching carefully for any reaction to it; there was none. She sits there for a few moments, letting the warmth of the mug warm her hands. They had been so cold and numb from lack of blood flow for so long that the return of warmth to her hand is almost painful.

Dean had made this cup of coffee using holy water. While it is harmless to human, it would give an immediate reaction if Castielle is something other than human. As Dean watches, Castielle takes a cautious sip. While she doesn’t appear to like the taste of the coffee, she gives none of the normal reactions of a demon to the holy water.

It was a strike three on this girl being a demon, shape shifter, or anything other monster that hunters had come across before.

_“We might be screwed_.” Was Dean’s thought as he watched Castielle continue to drink the coffee as if it was just normal coffee.


End file.
